


Right of the First Night and Others to Come

by greygerbil



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: AU: Davos was never married, AU: Stannis was never married, King Stannis Baratheon, M/M, Past Mpreg, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Threesome Is Endgame, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: Salladhor has a special wedding present for his new husband Davos.
Relationships: Salladhor Saan/Davos Seaworth, Stannis Baratheon/Davos Seaworth, Stannis Baratheon/Salladhor Saan/Davos Seaworth
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36
Collections: Holly Poly 2019





	Right of the First Night and Others to Come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).



Stannis had to admit that Davos and his husband were a fine-looking couple, though the thought left a bad taste in his mouth. The Lysene pirate was still handsome despite being some years older than Davos, his white curls and short-cropped beard contrasting beautifully against his dark skin, the pale purple of his eyes repeated in the fabric of his expansive, silver-lined, gem-studded robe. Next to his extravagant display, Davos’ outfit of a grey doublet and black breeches seemed very sombre, but Stannis had always loved looking at him because of his understated qualities: the thin smile, the soft eyes, the way his thin fingers brushed back his dun hair.

Currently, Davos was being swept all through the great hall by his husband, the two of them dancing with agility and an easy familiarity that made Stannis suspect this scene had happened often over the years, on the decks of ships, in taverns all over Essos, at feasts for strange gods.

Though Davos was smiling and engaged in conversation as they flitted across the dance floor, his gaze strayed at times over his husband’s shoulder in a turn and he would catch Stannis’ eyes. Stannis had considered marrying Davos many times, but propriety had stopped him. He had, after all, still been a former smuggler turned insignificant knight and with bastard sons already to his name when they had first met, the parentage of Stannis’ own children of him might have been called into question, though Stannis would never have done so.

It had been, in hindsight, the right decision, for as a lord could just have gotten away with such a bad marriage, a king would have had a much harder time with a commoner husband who could easily have spent his life rotting in a dungeon if it had taken a worse turn. Stannis had just fought a hard battle to win the throne back from the Lannisters with the help of his younger brother, securing his support by brokering a marriage between him and Loras Tyrell, and, he had to admit, with not insignificant assistance from Salladhor Saan, Davos’ ever-smiling pirate friend, at the Battle of the Blackwater.

It should have been a relieve when, in return for his troubles, Salladhor had said he was quite happy to forego gold, as the throne had little of it by this point. All he had wanted was the hand of one of Stannis’ knights, “the hand that you’re not using,” as he’d put it. Davos was Stannis’ Hand now.

 _Have I sold my closest ally?_ Stannis mused bitterly to himself as he watched them. Davos was a smart man who probably knew of Stannis’ affection for him and Stannis flattered himself that he had returned them, but Davos would also have realised he would never be his husband and that Stannis was too principled to make him his courtesan. It was reasonable for Davos not to hold out futile hope, which had only grown more faint now that Stannis had the crown, and agree to the marriage with a man he had known for so long. His seven boys where Salladhor’s issue, anyway, and while they had not seemed to consider themselves a couple, it was clear something had kept them coming back to each other. “I was not the only one who wanted to get children on him, or at least the chance to try,” Salladhor had told Stannis with a grin when he had made his request. “I think I should finally claim him for myself before someone else does.” When Stannis had repeated the words to Davos, he’d shaken his head with a smile. The pirate’s impertinence had never seemed to bother him, a sentiment Stannis decidedly did not share. However, in truth, they were a much better match than Stannis and Davos would have been, Stannis told himself. And was it not good to see Davos happy? He did _look_ happy, too, except for when he glanced at Stannis from the corner of his eyes.

The song ended and was replaced by a faster one. Salladhor leaned in to listen to something Davos whispered in his ear and nodded his head. They walked back towards the elevated table under the dais through a mixed crowd of nobles and colourful figures from across the sea, which were eyed by the former group with equal parts distrust and fascination.

“You have brought odd guests, Salladhor Saan,” Stannis said as the pirate led Davos back to his place by his arm.

“Me?” he asked, as he stared at Stannis, eyes innocently widened. “Yes, yes, I may have invited them, but I did it for the benefit of Davos! Didn’t you see how many of them greeted him?”

Stannis just frowned. Though Davos’ past had never disquieted him once he had renounced his ways and paid the price, seeing Salladhor wield his knowledge of all of Davos’ history and prior connections irked him. Was it because Salladhor knew a side of Davos that he had not felt comfortable sharing with Stannis? But then again, why would he have wanted to know about criminals and their doings? Davos had had the right of it by keeping quiet and yet Stannis could not help but feel sullen.

He scolded himself for the foolish thought. He had agreed to this damned marriage, why did he now bemoan the fact that the husbands got along?

“Davos,” Salladhor said, touching him on the arm, “the king is cross with me, make it better.”

“If the king is cross with you, he will never let anyone talk him out of it. You can only win back His Grace’s regard with your actions,” Davos said, smiling over his shoulder.

Salladhor gave a loud sigh as he sprawled in his chair sideways to look up at Stannis on the dais. “If Salladhor Saan can give you some humble advice: men who don’t occasionally listen to honeyed words miss out on a lot of sweetness, King Stannis. See, Davos won’t even try anymore!”

Davos raised a brow.

“The king does not like sweet things, Salla. No real or imagined honey. You fight a losing battle.”

With exaggerated surprise, Salladhor stared at Stannis, who simply looked back in wordless agreement.

“It seems I am! What a peculiar person you are, King Stannis!” Salladhor burst out.

Next to Stannis, Renly stifled a chuckle. Him and Loras seemed quite amused with the display of the pirate’s continued cheek.

“I still think Davos could do it if he tried,” Salladhor insisted with a smirk, sinking deeper in his chair.

“Davos knows better than to use _sweet_ words, at least,” Stannis answered. “He always tells me the truth. But would that really help your case, Salladhor Saan?”

Salladhor Saan threw his head back and laughed. “You wound me!” he cried out. “Perhaps I have made a slight misstep here or there, but nothing so grand that you’ll have to take any fingers or toes. And from now on, I will be the most loyal subject you have.”

“You might have to be. As the Hand, I expect my husband to act honourably,” Davos teased.

“I have no other intentions. In fact, since King Stannis gave me right to organise watch over the sea by King’s Landing, I plan on defending his right to taxation with my life.”

As Lord of Blackwater Bay, Salladhor had already used some questionable strategies to protect the King’s Law, but it seemed like he had at least the good sense to know that he needn’t pick fights with Stannis’ subjects to collect the spoils that he wanted. If some of the actually smuggled goods he captured vanished in the holds of Salladhor’s ships, then Stannis would bear it with gritted teeth. He had had to make many of such murky compromises over the last months and Salladhor was among the least offensive cases, though the grin he gave Stannis right now made it difficult to remember that.

“I do think King Stannis might come to appreciate my help. After all, he has been growing soft on smugglers lately, giving them all sorts of positions and honours – and arranging such an advantageous marriage! A prince like Salladhor Saan for a lowborn brat from Flea Bottom!”

Davos gave Salladhor a gentle whack on the back of the head with his shortened fingers and smiled when Salladhor captured his wrist in mock-outrage. It should not have surprised Stannis, for of course he knew that sailors had not the best manners when among each other, though Davos never let it show with knights and lords and Stannis himself; and yet, for a moment he wondered what it would have been like if Davos had felt as free around him. Of course, Stannis had never known what to do with people who bantered and did silly things. _Just one more stupid thought._

“Careful, pirate, the wedding is not over yet. I will have to think about whether I will give my Hand to someone who speaks ill of him,” Stannis muttered, though it was baseless squabbling, brought on by the knot in his chest as he watched them.

“No such threats, my king! I have much to do tonight. Since Davos has agreed to wed me, there is still no lady of the Rainwood, so someone will have to try to put one in his belly. He has too many sons! It gets dreary in castles in Westeros without maidens. Your men don’t dance and sing and they dress much too soberly.”

With affected distaste, he flicked Davos’ dark doublet, gaining a shake of his head from his husband.

“Even if we have another son, you will sing and dance and wear colourful clothes enough for ten Westerosi women,” Davos gave back.

“Ah, but I have heard you sing like a bird, too, Davos. You should have seen him twenty years ago, my king, when I first met him. Seventeen or eighteen, he must have been, dressed up like a boy from the pillow houses, drinking white wine from the beautiful Lys vineyards and taking to the celebrations of the goddess like he’d been born on her shores.”

With some real trepidation, Davos threw him a hard look, silencing Salladhor. It surprised Stannis; Davos was rarely so obviously ashamed of anything he had done before he had come to Stannis’ court, despite the fact that so many highborn nobles mocked him ceaselessly.

“The king does not need to hear about my youth,” Davos said, with a nervous glance at Stannis. “I’m sure he can imagine I was no septon, considering my oldest sons are long men grown.”

 _He is worried I would disapprove_ , Stannis realised. He should have been. Instead, however, the image conjured by Salladhor stuck in Stannis’ head, causing many feelings, none distaste. Shocked by his own reaction, he only saw Salladhor’s leering grin after a moment and quickly looked away, feeling as if he’d been caught attempting to steal from another man. This was, after all, Salladhor’s wedding and it would not do to openly desire his husband. It was Salladhor who had shared the tale, though – had he led him to these thoughts on purpose? Did he know what Stannis felt?

Torn between anger and embarrassment, Stannis stood suddenly.

“It’s getting late,” he said curtly. “It’s time to bring you to your chambers.”

“The feasts here never last long enough, either,” Salladhor said, offering his hand to Davos, “but I have something better awaiting me, so I will not complain.”

“Will you come, Your Grace?” Davos asked.

Stannis could not read in his voice whether he wished it or not. He could not say whether he wanted to, either. He was Davos’ lord still, his king, and as such he should have done the honour of leading the bedding ceremony. However, seeing people tear clothes off him and Salladhor and jeer about what they would get up to behind closed doors, with Salladhor no doubt a willing participant in the crass japes, sounded like torture after sitting through the whole of their wedding already.

“I have no mind for such folly,” he answered. “You know the way to the Tower of the Hand, Davos. You can lead the way.”

“Yes, my king,” Davos answered.

He saw Davos cast another quick glance at him again before Salladhor took his hand and captured his attention fully.

-

There was always work to be done when you attempted to rule in a kingdom still shaken from war. Usually, Stannis could lose himself in the letters and lists that littered his desk, aware of the importance of his task as well as the enormity of it.

Today, however, ink went dry on his quill and he stared into the candle flame instead, watching its twitching flicker that was as nervous as his thoughts. Had he been wrong to give Davos up? Perhaps, despite everything, he should have asked for his hand – should have done it years ago, when it wouldn’t have seemed as impossible as it did now with the crown weighing on his head. He knew how useless these ideas were at this point, yet they would not leave.

And what of the marriage that Davos had agreed to, paying Stannis’ debts? Salladhor, by all accounts, was a rogue, but probably would be a good husband. Certainly he seemed to truly like Davos and had for many years. From what Davos had told Stannis in asides and stray comments, he also cared about his sons and would have set them up with ships in his fleet had Stannis not provided opportunities that Davos had judged as better, since they might keep their children’s heads off spikes in the long run. Stannis could respect that about Salladhor, if little else. He also had to admit that the man had a way with words – had he not talked Stannis right into a trap this very evening while pretending to aimlessly joke around?

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Stannis frowned at the dark wood. It was late at night and he had not expected even his more brazen lords to bother him in his private chambers. He had already dressed down to a simple shirt and linen breeches in which he planned to sleep later, but it was possible that the visitor was a servant or messenger who had something important to say. He rose from his chair and took the cold iron handle in hand, pulling the door open.

In front of it stood Salladhor, his robes dishevelled and hanging off his shoulders, obviously past the bedding ceremony, and Davos, draped in his cloak and holding his doublet in one hand and Salladhor’s hand in the other, looking as confounded as Stannis felt.

“My king!” Salladhor began in his usual grandiose way as he dragged Davos inside and kicked the door shut behind them, tugging the knocker from Stannis’ slack grip in the process. “Good to see you still up.”

“What are you doing here? I figured you – occupied.”

Stannis glanced at Davos, who gave a helpless shrug.

“There is a present I have wanted to make my husband,” Salladhor said, letting go off Davos’ hand and instead grasping him by the shoulders, pushing him forward towards Stannis, fingers dragging gently downwards to curl around Davos’ arms. “Provided you agree, of course.”

“Stop your games. What is the meaning of this?” Stannis snapped.

“Is it not clear, Your Grace? I think we both know Davos would like to be in your bed as well as mine.”

“Salla -”

“No, no, Davos, no protesting now,” Salladhor said, waving at him, “I am not insulted. I know you are sweet on me, too. Besides, he would not be the first man we bed together, would he?”

“This is different,” Davos implored quietly, looking over his shoulder.

“I know. I am not saying the good king joins us only for an evening.” He glanced at Stannis. “You know that Salladhor Saan is a generous man, but I don’t plan to simply reinstate the right of the first night in these lands. One cannot forget oneself. I don’t offer you my husband for nothing, Your Grace. You will have to take us both.”

“So the king has won your favour as well?” Davos asked, surprised.

“As I said, I am terribly generous, but not to a fault. It is not a good habit, that.” Salladhor glanced over Davos’ shoulder. “Now, my king, what do you say?”

Stannis had stood speechless as he listened to the two of them. First to hear confirmation from Davos’ mouth that Stannis had not imagined his affection set off a bittersweet ache; and then to have Salladhor cheerfully suggest that he should join them in their marital bed as if it was the most normal thing in the world left him entirely without a reaction.

“What would you want with me, Salladhor Saan?” Stannis asked blankly.

He was not a man who was desired. Davos might have wanted him, but his regard had grown over years spent together. Salladhor and Stannis were as disparate as Northern winter and summer in Dorne.

Salladhor laughed at him.

“Why would I not like to fuck a tall, moody lord? More importantly, you turned my smuggler into an honest man, which I didn’t forgive you for many years. I must say it made me think about you, though.”

The idea that he was a conundrum to anyone seemed ridiculous to Stannis, who prided himself on being a very straightforward man. However, from his point of view, Salladhor was the riddle, and one he had admittedly tried to solve before, with Davos as the anchor point between. What did he see in the loud, flamboyant pirate? And answers had come one by one over time, pointing to the man’s undeniable charm, his high spirits, his surprisingly abiding affection for Davos that spoke of a loyalty that seemed selective but true. Perhaps Salladhor’s own questions had led him down a similar path contemplating Stannis’ qualities and maybe it had made him as curious as Stannis had been on long nights when his thoughts ran away from him.

His gaze strayed to Davos again, who still stood between them, stiff and uncertain, held forward by Salladhor like an offering.

“You cannot be given away by your husband against your will,” Stannis said and as he did, he realised he wanted to do this.

“I would not be,” Davos said slowly, voice tight and eyes wide.

Stannis swallowed. He should have sent them away, but his own disobedient desire was overwhelming.

“What if it is not just one night... if you plan to be in my bed more often, it may be that I get a child on Davos. How would you know it is your heir?” he asked, looking back at Salladhor Saan.

“You should rather make sure that you don’t end up carrying any bastards, since you don’t have a husband who you could call the father. I have seven sons of Davos that I’m quite certain are mine. Had your war gone worse, I might be a few heirs short, but for now I don’t lack them.” He chuckled. “You haven’t forgotten, have you? Devan worships you, he would be heartbroken.”

“Of course I haven’t,” Stannis muttered. “But my children would still be bastards in your house.”

Salladhor was right that the inheritance was almost certainly going to one of his children by blood – though they were not trueborn, their parents were now joined. Still, how could he be so nonchalant?

“Oh, what does it matter?! You helped Davos with all the others, in fact I should say you saw more of them than I did. And we will stay at court with you, after all. I have a son who wears your name! It seems to me you always had a hand in the lives of my children.” Salladhor smirked at him. “But I think we are arguing in vain! This is not about my bloodline. You are just afraid.” He turned to Davos. “You must feel quite flattered, being such a distraction that the king thought he had to marry you off lest he succumb to temptation.”

Stannis opened his mouth to protest, but felt blood rush to his head in the same moment. Was Salladhor right? It had not been what he thought to be doing, yet having Davos bound to a husband had put him safely out of Stannis’ reach, or so he’d thought.

Before Stannis had sorted through his thoughts, Davos stepped forward and kissed him. Every word fell immediately out of his head, but his hand twitched to Davos’ arm, touching it briefly.

“Do not let Salla tease you, Your Highness,” Davos said, as he leaned back, glancing over his shoulder again. “He will do it for hours if you don’t step in.”

“Vile accusations,” Salladhor said contently, gently jostling Davos with a hand against his back so that he landed in Stannis’ arms. Davos made no attempts to stop his stagger. “Make your decision, king.”

“I take no orders from you, pirate,” Stannis muttered, hand still on Davos’ elbow. _But what is my answer?_

He had been too strict and perhaps too cowardly to ask Davos to be his lover, but Davos was a married man now, reasonably honourable in the eyes of the sept, and Stannis had not the strength left to deny himself again. There was Salladhor, of course, but to his own surprise he did not find himself cooling to the idea because of his presence. The man made him bristle often enough, but in that he was just enough contrast to Davos to hold his interest captive.

Stannis frowned briefly at himself. Was he turning into Robert, after all? A tryst with two lovers sounded like the sort of ridiculous thing he would have bragged about. Yet, Davos smiled and Salladhor smirked and both made him feel a twinge in his core.

“Fine,” he said, finally.

Salladhor snorted, but ushered Davos towards the bed.

“No wonder you could not get him to sleep with you, Davos. The man has to be coaxed and cajoled into a free offer of pleasure.”

“I was a little more timid than you,” Davos said, raising a brow.

“And what has that ever won anyone?” Salladhor gave back, pushing the heavy red curtains of the bed aside with a grand gesture. “It did not work for your king, either. But no matter, it’s my gain.”

With those words, he cupped Davos’ face and kissed him. It was not the careful, expectant peck that Davos had placed on Stannis’ lips, but something that involved biting and flicks of the tongue and left Davos scrambling to grab Salladhor’s arms. Stannis was half-mesmerised when Salladhor pulled back and Davos gasped for air.

“Well? We could have done this by ourselves in the Tower of the Hand,” Salladhor noted.

Stannis moved. He had no idea what he would do when he arrived at the side of the two men – he had once had a dalliance with another lord’s son, long ago when he was young and naive and not quite so hard in his principles, but that memory was one of bitter disappointment and they had not lasted very long, as Stannis had been discarded in favour of other toys. However, Davos reached out his hand and Salladhor took him by the wrist and then Stannis suddenly knelt next to Davos, who was a flushed from Salladhor’s efforts and looked quite attractive for it.

Salladhor kissed Stannis, too, the same he had Davos. Stannis was perhaps a less grateful participant; he only opened his mouth because he was so surprised. The twinge in his middle turned into something greater and more resonant with a sudden snap, the pleasant tension running up his spine as Salladhor spread his long, lean fingers out over Stannis’ thighs while he let his tongue play over Stannis’ lips. When he sat back, he surveyed Stannis and laughed once more.

“Do not look at me like I grew another head! I am from Lys. Have you seen our goddess? No dull Mothers and Maidens and Crones where I come from.”

“And yet, here you are with two Westerosi men,” Davos said with a smile.

Salladhor sighed. “It is your fault, as you know. You could have fallen in love with a man from Lys and made my life much easier.”

“But I have already done that, too,” Davos said and kissed Salladhor on the cheek.

Salladhor looked pleased like a cat as he put his arm around Davos’ middle.

“You have proven it with my boys, yes. But loving a man from Lys might be all you’ll do tonight if the king doesn’t stop playing statue…”

The goading tone irked Stannis, but the promise of Davos’ hands on him kept him from starting a fight and some unknown flicker of pride wanted to prove to Salladhor and Davos both that he had more to show for himself than the giggling rumours at court about his failing libido would lead them to believe – even if he was not so sure that he did himself.

He took Davos by the shoulders, but his first impulse was simply to embrace him and he followed it. Davos nestled his face against the crook of his neck in a gently affectionate gesture before he kissed his throat, fingers playing with the laces of his shirt. As he dipped his head down towards his chest and let his hands run up under the fabric, Salladhor leaned closer and brushed aside Davos’ cloak to grasp his naked sides and smoothed his hands down the front of his thighs.

“You’re distracting,” Davos muttered, his warm breath coming against Stannis’ skin.

“You have seven children, Davos Seaworth, you cannot pretend you are innocent enough to be so easily confused. Do your work for the king.”

Stannis saw Davos roll his eyes as he applied himself to Stannis once more and found himself needled on his behalf, stoking the fire Salladhor had been building all evening. As the man pawed at Davos’ backside, Stannis, both strangely excited by the sight and a little jealous, grabbed handfuls of the smooth cloth of his robes and pulled him in for another kiss. Salladhor made a delighted noise of wonder against his mouth, as if he had not expected such proactivity from Stannis.

Spurred on by Davos working his way down, now unfastening the straps of his breeches, Stannis plunged his tongue into Salladhor’s mouth and found himself drawn into something that felt like a dance, especially in how much Stannis stumbled, trying to keep up with a more graceful and experienced partner. However, unlike his attempts at moving to music, this was actually enjoyable. His hands held on tightly to Salladhor, drawing him nearer, as Salladhor raised one hand to push Stannis’ shirt up to his shoulders and thumb his nipple.

Davos made a quiet, somewhat choked noise. Quickly, Stannis let go of Salladhor, sheepishly guilty. He had not forgotten his presence, of course, but been taken in so much by Salladhor that he’d not paid him heed for a moment. The position he’d been left in, folded between their bodies with Salladhor’s knee digging into his side, could not have been comfortable.

“My apologies,” Stannis murmured, pushing Salladhor off.

“Do you feel neglected down there?”

Salladhor grinned as he pulled Davos’ breeches down and slicked one finger with spit before he thrust it deep into Davos. It was a quick movement without warning and Stannis found himself frowning at the momentary flick of discomfort he saw tightening Davos’ expression, but the way he spread his legs proved he did not seem to mind.

“Now, my dear Davos, if you seduce two men, you must be ready to bear the consequences,” Salladhor added, like a maester admonishing his student.

“I am trying,” Davos answered, shaking his head. “Now, will you help me or would you prefer to teeter on the edge of the bed?”

Whatever Davos planned seemed more obvious to Salladhor than Stannis, for he moved out of Stannis’ reach, winking at him as he stood by the side of the bed. At the same moment, Davos urged Stannis gently to move backwards, pulling his manhood out of his opened trousers. He smiled at Stannis in a way he had rarely seen before, with something sly lurking behind his warm brown eyes, before he flicked down his gaze and took him in his mouth.

Stannis only looked up because he was worried that if he watched him too closely, he would spend himself immediately. Where Salladhor had acquired the little bottle of oil he saw him fiddling with now he had missed entirely, but it did not surprise Stannis at all that, as the master of this plan, he had come prepared. His gaze dropped involuntarily to Salladhor’s cock as he slicked it. It was thick with a broad head which now pressed against Davos’ entrance.

“Do not worry, my king. You can have it later if you want,” Salladhor said as he pushed into Davos.

Stannis averted his gaze and scoffed at him, but did not protest too loudly. He was, in fact, very unsure what he wanted at the moment, his mind clouded by pleasure, which was of course Davos’ doing. For how much he tried to dislike Salladhor’s crude words about Davos dressed like a pillow boy, Stannis doubted that even the famed brothel workers of Lys could have treated him better than Davos did – and that was with Salladhor having a tight grip on Davos’ hips and using him for his entertainment, too. Stannis found his gaze going erratically back and forth between the picture of Salladhor standing by the bed, raising Davos’ backside to meet his thrusts, and Davos leaning over his lap, one hand wrapped around the base of Stannis’ cock, lifting one finger after the other as he slowly sucked him in deeper with each downward movement of his head.

Stannis grabbed him roughly by his hair and pulled him off. It was all he could do to not come down his throat. Instead, his seed landed on Davos’ face, which was perhaps just as bad, but gave Stannis another jolt. He figured where he ten years younger, he may not have had time to go soft.

“Stag flags all over the castle and now this. These nobles always need to leave their mark,” Salladhor mocked breathlessly.

“I didn’t mean to,” Stannis bit out.

But he could not deny the sight was intoxicating. Davos grabbed an edge of the sheets to wipe his face, but spared his mouth, which he simply licked clean as Stannis looked on in fascination. Then, he pulled himself up by Stannis’ shoulders, urging him a little closer and into his arms.

“I don’t mind to wear the Baratheon flag or any other marks,” he said over his shoulder. “And besides, you’ll be leaving bruises, Salla.”

“Out of passion,” Salladhor said, chuckling as he gave the red marks on Davos’ hips a gentle smack. “But I bet the king could leave worse, big knight that he is.”

“Not on Davos,” Stannis said flatly, looking Salladhor in the eye.

Salladhor laughed.

“I will take that as a promise.”

He doubled his efforts, yet did not drop Stannis’ gaze. Stannis did not look away now, either, but wrapped one arm around Davos’ shoulders and reached between his legs with the other, grabbing his hard cock. He wondered if his touch was clumsy, but from the way Davos’ breathing grew harder he seemed to enjoy it. Salladhor finally had to shut his eyes and let out a string of words in a language Stannis did not understand. Stannis held Davos tightly through Salladhor’s orgasm – held him in place, he realised, though Davos made no effort to escape, anyway. In fact, he pressed his face against Stannis’ shoulder when he came himself, with Salladhor’s hand resting between his shoulder blades, pushing him even closer.

Once Salladhor had moved away from him, Davos rolled out of Stannis lap to pull his breeches up. They all sat together on the edge of the bed. Stannis saw Davos glancing at him again, much as he had in the great hall. Salladhor, however, simply stretched out on the royal bed with happy abandon and made no efforts to tuck himself back in like Stannis and Davos had done in some effort to feign modesty.

“I hope you don’t plan to offer Davos to anyone else?” Stannis said, eventually.

His mind was buzzing with pictures of what could perhaps be done here in following nights, but he knew for a fact that Salladhor was the only man whose claim on Davos’ he would tenuously accept.

“No, he doesn’t,” Davos said in a tone that clearly made his words an order.

Salladhor sighed as he looked up at Stannis.

“Ah, the man has grown too clingy in his old age! To both of us, at least, but two is still a small number out of all the men in the world one could sample, isn’t it? For the sake of my husband I will restrict myself as well, however.”

As he reached out to touch Stannis’ thigh, Stannis wondered what his plans where and what thoughts had led him here. He had never before really made any attempt to understand what was going on in Salladhor Saan’s head, thinking he had that sort figured out, but clearly he had judged too quickly, for he could not in a million years have predicted the events of this evening. He would talk it over with Davos, perhaps get to hear some of their story. Until now, he had always avoided it, since it only left jealousy burning in his chest.

While he was still contemplating and enjoying the feeling of Davos’ shoulder pressed against his, Salladhor sat up and, with a quickness that took Stannis off guard, placed another kiss on his mouth. The confusion must have shown on his face – he was wondering why Salladhor wanted to kiss him when they were already sated –, for Salladhor grinned.

“You cannot expect me to never steal, King Stannis. I was a pirate, after all. But we already know you like bad men.”

He nudged Davos, who chuckled, and Stannis found himself suppressing a brief smile.


End file.
